Rendezvous
by Kristen Sharpe
Summary: A "what if?" scenario based around a moment in the first season that I hope isn't too obscure. Weary in body and soul, T-Bone makes the nightly rendezvous he's kept for the past year. [Complete]


Title: Rendezvous  
Author: Kristen Sharpe  
Date: October 9, 2000  
Final Draft: October 14, 2000  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
What happens when you watch ten episodes of SWAT Kats in a row while you paint and  
then listen to Loreena McKennitt's "The Visit" for a week? You think of really strange "What  
ifs?" that's what happens. Based around a moment in the first season that I hope isn't too obscure. Includes a fairly obvious reference to "Cry, Turmoil" in the second season.   
  
Any and all Morse code contained herein is not intended to be genuine.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
The SWAT Kat T-Bone sighed heavily, leaning his broad back into the glass behind him.   
Tiredly, he slouched there for a minute before words came to him. Thickly, they rolled off his  
tongue, his voice hoarse.  
  
"It's been one of those days, buddy," he muttered. "I just barely escaped this crazy  
she-kat..."  
  
A soft murmur at his back encouraged him to continue.  
  
"See, she flew in over the city in this huge airship. Shot down a commercial airliner with  
this ray of hers that caused the pilot to be so disoriented he couldn't control the plane... A real  
piece of work." His voice choked. "I was there." A single tear slid down his cheek. "I tried,  
buddy. I tried. But, it plummeted so fast I couldn't stop it. 175 passengers." His eyes closed  
tightly, shoulders heaved. "No survivors."  
  
Choking down the flood of emotions, he turned to face his friend.  
  
The once kat was standing just behind where the big tabby had sat, his head cocked to one  
side.  
  
Many would have found the five foot tall insect frightening. Body a dull orange-brown  
carapace covered in short, stiff hairs with huge insectoid green eyes dominating his face, Razor  
bore little resemblance to the kat T-Bone had known. The big tabby never flinched. He had seen  
this sight for the last year.  
  
Stepping forward, the insect tapped a claw on the glass separating them.  
  
T-Bone nodded to him sadly.  
  
"Hardly the first I've failed, huh?"  
  
The ci-kat-a shook its head back and forth slowly.  
  
T-Bone wasn't sure how to respond to that. Was Razor denying that he'd failed him? No.   
Razor wasn't that cognizant. He was putting kat gestures to a creature that no longer  
remembered them. Like assuming your pet understood your words because it responded with a  
gesture that looked feline.  
  
Still, that was just the sort of thing Razor would have done. He never let T-Bone blame  
himself. The ghost of a smile played across T-Bone's lips.   
  
Razor *had* improved. Even the scientists agreed.   
  
His behavior was a far cry from when this nightmare started. A year ago. A year ago  
when the alien bugs came. A year ago when T-Bone landed outside the nuclear plant and went  
searching for his partner. Then, Razor had howled and swore as T-Bone pinned him and later  
brought him to the research facility in hopes of a cure.   
  
But, T-Bone never blamed Razor. It wasn't him talking.   
  
When his transformation into a ci-kat-a had ended, when his voice had become  
unintelligible, Razor had settled for ignoring his once partner.   
  
Again, it wasn't Razor.  
  
It was only in the last two months that the insect had started to pay attention. Whether he  
understood a word was debatable. But, it made no difference. T-Bone would never give up.   
Rename it and stubborn was a virtue.  
  
The ci-kat-a tapped the glass again, insistently.  
  
The big kat patted the glass where Razor's claw was with another sigh and turned to leave.   
He'd seen this a million times. He didn't blame Razor for wanting out. But, it was always the  
insect that wanted to escape and then ignored him when he wouldn't open the door. It was never  
his friend.   
  
It wasn't Razor.  
  
The tapping continued, steady, rhythmic.   
  
Tap-tap. Taptaptap. Tap.  
  
The big kat froze.   
  
Tap. Tap-tap.  
  
An ear flickered backward slowly, an old memory surfacing.  
  
Taptaptap. Tap.  
  
A rhythm. A code. Morse code.  
  
"Morse code," T-Bone whispered. He spun and flung himself at the glass, one hand  
pressing to it. "Are... are you....?" he started, unsure. He couldn't say it. Couldn't hope again.  
  
The insect nodded.   
  
Taptaptap. Pause. Tap-tap. Pause. Tap. Tap-tap.  
  
"Here," T-Bone mouthed.  
  
Tap-tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. Tap. Taptaptap. Tap. Pause. Tap.   
  
"Buddy."  
  
He looked into the multi-faceted eyes.  
  
I'm here, Buddy.  



End file.
